


the start of a beautiful something or other

by CopperCaravan



Series: Flight [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fera Shepard, Moreau Family - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-25 19:02:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7544248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CopperCaravan/pseuds/CopperCaravan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of my Flight School AU.<br/>After Jeff secures his position as pilot of the Normandy, Shepard boards as his co-pilot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the start of a beautiful something or other

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for He Who Laughs Best.  
> There's no awkward love triangle blooming here, just so everybody's aware. Also no weird tension with Kaidan later either. That's not a thing you're gonna have to worry about, if you're worried about it.  
> And PF means "pilot flying." Since Bioware doesn't know how to do any actual system of military ranking that makes any amount of sense, I had to improvise. Often, co-pilots will refer to each other as Captain/1st Officer, but obviously that won't work here. Other options are PF/PNF (pilot-flying/pilot-not-flying) or PF/PM (pilot-flying/pilot-monitoring) so that's what I opted for.

Shepard pauses on the dock, just for a second, and rolls her shoulders. She’s still a little sore, still a little tired. Her trip from Tiptree had been rushed. And cramped. And she hasn’t gotten a bit of sleep since getting Jeff’s text—counting the time shift and the relay jump and the travel lag... god, she doesn’t even want to do the math. She’s real damn tired and that’s all that matters.

_I just wanna say up front that I did not get arrested._

Way to inspire confidence, Jeff. No, really.

But she’s got to admit—not that it’s hard—that the Normandy is a damn impressive ship. It’s no wonder he wanted to pilot so badly. Hell, if the Alliance’d had any sense, they’d have asked him first chance they got. Not hard to figure out why they didn’t though, bastards.

Still, she finds herself rubbing her temples with her thumbs. Part exhaustion, part leftover worry, all headache. It’s not that she doesn’t agree with Jeff, it’s just that stealing the damn ship might’ve been a little much. When she’d said as much, though, he’d practically blamed her for it like she’d been there with him.

_Right. Because you’d never steal a ship. Or break into a flight sim over spring break. Or prank the Dean. Or rig the entire gym before a biotiball game. Or try to get into the cages at the zoo in Vancouver—don’t think I forgot that, Shepard. Mom hasn’t either._

He’d been such a stick in the mud back in the Academy but _now_ he wants to call her a bad influence. She shakes her head and shoulders her duffel and heads up the ramp to her new home-away-from-home. Or... home-away-from-apartment-in-the-wards. Details.

~

The great thing about piloting with tactile screens is that when the shutters are up, Jeff can kick back and watch the galaxy sprawling out all around him. Or he can spy on people taking their sweet time to board.

He doesn’t really blame her—this ship is a _sight—_ but, y’know, it’d be great if she’d hurry up, is all. _Technically_ he could meet her at the door but that kinda invalidates the whole “ha ha you work for me now” thing he has going on and it’s not gonna last real long so he wants to get in his hits while he can. Plus, though he’s loathe to admit it even to Shepard, today’s not a great day for needless exercise. It’s not _much_ worse than the normal amount of achy but still. It’s enough.

He hears the airlock though, when she _finally_ shoulders her bag and boards. And he hears Anderson start bellowing like an old man—he sure hadn’t laughed like that when Jeff met him. Sure the circumstances had been different but still. Rude.

Jeff squints, trying to listen in, but fights the urge to spin his chair around toward the CIC.

“Shepard!”

“Kaidan Alenko!”

The familiarity in her voice is enough: he spins the chair.

“How are you, Kaidan? I didn’t know you’d been assigned here too!”

Ugh. Hugging. It’s not that he’s jealous, exactly, because that’d be ridiculous, but there’s a bit of a pit forming in his gut. It is most definitely because she’s making him wait though, not at all related to the fact that no matter how happy she always is to see him, she can never sling her arms around him and squeeze the life out of him like she does now, with Alenko. That’d be dumb. She does that to his parents all the time, does it to his sister. They’re all a bunch of huggers, really. This isn’t any different. Just—well maybe it’s a little different. Or maybe it just sucks to always be a spectator. But right now it’s just impatience, so he taps his fingers on the armrest. Doesn’t get her attention though.

“I’m good. Really good. But how about _you_?” Kaidan releases her— _about damned time_ —and puts a hand on her shoulder. She’s still grinning like an idiot. Jeff’s gonna tell her that too. “I haven’t seen you since—”

“That damned Chairman,” she finishes. “Worst job I’ve ever done, escorting dignitaries around.”

Kaidan grins and rolls his eyes. “I could say the same. Not a fun guy.”

“It’s like they think we have nothing better to do than pander to government officials. Hell, they’re almost worse than the—”

“Shepard.” Ok. That’s it. Jeff’s finally lost all patience. You wait and you wait and you wait on somebody and they just stand around on the dock or make jokes with Anderson or stroll down memory lane and shit. Hasn’t even said hi to him yet! “You think you could wrap up story-time? Maybe come do your job? You know, the one _I_ got you?”

Her eyes flick to the side, just for a _second_ , but it’s enough. Damn her! She was doing it on purpose. Of course she was. Asshole.

“We’ll talk later,” she tells Kaidan, tipping her head toward the cockpit. “Gotta unknot my PF’s briefs.”

“Sure thing.” Kaidan nods, all friendly-like, before he leaves and Shepard takes her sweet time sauntering up the bridge.

“Ha ha,” Jeff says. “Real funny. Keep your hands outta my pants.”

She drops her chin and salutes. “I’ll do my best, sir.” When she drops her salute—if you can even really call it that—she pulls a jar out of the pocket of her bag. “This is from your dad. He says hi, and that you should’ve come home last time you had leave—”

“You told him I was busy right?” Even as he asks, he knows she didn’t. She’s great and all but he’s honestly starting to think she loves everyone in the family more than him. Even the cow.

“Are you kidding? ‘Course I didn’t. I told him I agreed and then we complained about you for about twenty minutes.” She hands him the jar—fig preserves, can’t say he’s not happy to see those—and tosses her bag into a corner. “And he also says that he’s very proud of you but ‘please don’t steal military property again’ because it makes him very nervous when you act like your mother.”

She sits on the edge of his armrest while he unscrews the lid; he doesn’t wanna eat them—not yet, anyway—but he does wanna smell them. It’s been a while since he got home. “That all?”

“Gunny says hi and she loves you and that you’d better come home soon. I told her I’d drag you if I had to, so keep that in mind.”

“Noted.”

She waits a second, still balanced on his armrest, while he screws the lid back on his preserves and puts the jar carefully into the cup holder.

“That’s it?” She stands up, props her fists on her hips. “No _sorry I texted you at 3 AM about my criminal activities_ or _I really missed you Shep_ or _It’s so good to see you, my best and probably only friend because I’m a grumpy old grouch who texts people at 3 AM_? Nothing?”

She’s not _really_ mad, but she does kinda have a point. About the texting anyway. He might’ve known what time it’d be on Tiptree and he _might’ve_ elected to ignore that.

“I was on a schedule,” he says, hands raised in mock surrender. Neither of them ever really surrender. It’s a wonder they can even talk to each other sometimes. “Had to get a co-pilot in quick or they wanted that guy I locked in the escape pod. And what kinda atmosphere would that’ve been been? Awkward.”

She only rolls her eyes and drops a hand onto the top of his hat. “I assume you eventually let him out?”

He spins his chair back toward the front, grins a little. That’s much better. She came here to work with _him_ after all. Not to just hug her way through everybody else on board. “Eventually.”

She drops into her seat beside him and pulls up a debrief screen.

Gotta wait for a pick-up tomorrow: a spectre, of all things. And then Eden Prime. The whole things smells funky as hell to Jeff, but whatever. He’s got his ship. He’s got his figs. He’s got his co-pilot. He’s good.

Shepard can’t let him just have his moment of happiness with quiet dignity though.

“I missed you too, you colossal asshole.”


End file.
